


Losing everything and falling in love

by ironicallyrad



Category: Amazingphil - Fandom, Danisnotonfire - Fandom, Phan, Phandom
Genre: Best Friends, Coma, Comfort, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Getting Together, M/M, phil crying, smut mention?, sorry lmao
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-07
Updated: 2015-01-07
Packaged: 2018-03-06 11:40:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,952
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3133094
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ironicallyrad/pseuds/ironicallyrad
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After arguing between who should go buy milk, Dan finally gives in and heads out. It's not until after 40 minutes that he's out, that Phil receives a call from the hospital saying his best friend is in a coma. Phil has to go through the struggle of possibly losing his best friend and then helping him recover as he falls desperately in love.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Losing everything and falling in love

 

**Part 1 - The one where I lost everything**

 

Falls. Eventually, they happen. You can’t keep rising forever; eventually, you fall. Some falls are greater than others. Some falls are unexpected. Some falls are unbearable and your ears are ringing and your eyes feel like they’ll start bleeding at any minute from God knows how many tears and you feel like screaming but no sound comes out. You just end up lying awake in your room at 5am surrounded by memories that make your fall seem even greater. When your world comes crashing down, what else are you to do? Sobbing into your best friend’s hoodie probably isn’t the ideal solution, but nothing about this situation is 'ideal'. 

“I’m always the one going to the grocery store! Besides, you’re the one who finished the milk,” I’d said. It’d seemed like such a normal day to day thing to say. 

“Fine,” he’d puffed his cheeks and grabbed his wallet, his coat, his phone, and I wish I had stopped him from walking out that door. But I didn’t. And it wasn’t until 40 minutes since I had last seen him that I got a phone call from the hospital. I remember wishing I could stop breathing. I remember wanting to move but being frozen in place, my knees were locked and I was pulling my hair and I was falling. I fell to the floor, I felt dizzy, like I might pass out. I might have, I’m not sure. The next thing I remember, though, is seeing Dan’s body lying on that bloody hospital bed, all bandaged up, and lifeless. The steady beeping of the heart monitor didn’t make him seem any more alive than he looked. Like everything else that happened today, what came after was a blur. The only thing I recall is all the breathing exercises I had to do in the time span of one hour. Doctors came rushing in and out, and I kind of just stood there. Some of them would approach me and mention him being in a coma. I was in too much shock to let that sink in, but now that I’m at home and the flat is empty and Dan won’t wake up to make me cereal tomorrow morning, everything feels like too much. I feel so small and try to make myself even smaller by curling up against the corner of my bed, one of Dan’s pieces of clothing draping over my arms making me sob even more. It all feels like a dream. A horrible dream that I'll wake up from, sweating and panting, grasping my covers in my fists, and Dan will walk in and ask me when I'll be ready to eat breakfast so we can sit on the couch and watch our usual shows. I'll wake up and everything will be okay and back to normal. It has to.

 I don't think I can feel anything right now, and it's scary. My whole body feels numb and I'm floating through space. For a while I have this urge to laugh. Or cry, or maybe scream, I'm not really sure. I don't do anything though, I just hug my sides and burry my face on the piece of clothing my best friend was too lazy to put back in the closet three days ago. Everything will be fine.

 

~~~~~~

 

It’s 1pm and I don’t mind that I overslept. I don’t mind that my stomach’s making insane noises and I don’t mind the horrible bed hair I’m wearing as I head to the hospital. My melancholy pace earns me pitiful looks from the nurses and a few other people there. I don’t mind. When I reach his door it’s already halfway open. I let my eyes adjust to the bright whiteness of the room and see his mother sitting at the feet of his bed, his brother on a little chair next to him, and his father with his back against the wall opposite of him. I slowly close the door behind me and they look up and greet me with tired smiles.

“Hi, Phil,” his mum says, standing up to give me a quick hug. I nod my head towards them and turn my body in Dan’s direction. He looks calm. At least calmer than he looked yesterday. His face isn’t dirty from the pavement dirt and blood anymore, and his chest is slowly rising and falling. The only sound in the room is his steady breathing and the hopeful beeping of the heart monitor. No one talks and no one feels the need to. His mum is rubbing her hand slowly against his leg, not daring to look at his face. His dad watches him from across the room, eyes looking sleepy, the ends of his mouth curving downward, and his hands repeatedly tapping against his own pants. And finally, his brother is resting his head on top of his own crossed arms against the mattress and I’m not sure if he’s crying. He might be. I wouldn’t blame him. I’m crying too. I’m wiping my eyes and clenching my fists to keep the tears from streaming down my face, but it’s useless. I’m crying. His mum reaches one of her hands up to rub my arm.

“You don’t need to stay here. You can go home, we’ll take care of him.”

I shake my head. “I can’t- I’m not- It’s- It’s not a one person flat.” Even though seeing him like this completely shatters my heart, being home where we laugh and talk and share meals and watch netflix together everyday would be so much worse. His mum nods, understanding. 

And that’s how we spend the rest of the day; not saying much except for a few words of encouragement, leaving the room one by one to go get some food, and taking turns sitting next to Dan. It’s painful. It would take one glance to see the deranged look on each of our faces.

The next day, Dan’s father and brother decide to leave. After all, there’s still school and work to do, and there are bills to pay. His mum stays for a while longer, but leaves after about a week, promising to visit every weekend. I assure her I’ll take care of him and she hugs me, not saying a word. She doesn’t need to. I understand how hard this is for her, but she has a family to feed and take care of. As for me, well, Dan _is_ my family, as utterly lame as that sounds. He's the one person I share my everyday thoughts with, and he's the one person who's become a part of my everyday life. It's comforting, seeing him lounged on the sofa when I come back home after a tiring day out. It's comforting waking up to his distressed pacing in the middle of the night, as annoying as it gets sometimes. Most of all though, it's comforting having the absolute best friend I could ask for and spending every waking moment of my life with him.

The first night I spend at the hospital is the first night his family doesn’t. I bring a sandwich I bought downstairs, although I’m not exactly sure what’s inside of it. I don’t really care; I’m not that hungry anyway. I sit down next to Dan’s bed and place my hands harshly on the sheets. 

“Hey Dan...”

The only response I get is another beep from the heart monitor.

“This isn’t funny anymore.” I let out a forced chuckle. “You can wake up now. Hey, I’ll buy our groceries for the next month.” He keeps breathing but not responding. I ignore the tears building up at the brim of my eyes. “Two months?” I sniff and softly grab hold of his arm. “Please wake up,” a sob escapes from my lips. “Please. Please wake up.” 

I don’t know how long I sit there, just barely lacing my fingers around his arm, tears threatening to spill from my eyes at any second, and begging him to wake up. 

The next morning my arm is numb from supporting my head, but my hand is still lightly holding onto Dan. I look up to see a nurse standing on the other side of the bed and taking notes on her clipboard. 

“Good morning!” she says cheerfully. 

I rub my eyes and try to give her a smile. “Good morning.”

“I’ll be out in a minute, don’t mind me.”

“How’s he doing?”

She gives me a sympathetic smile before putting her clipboard down. “He hit his head pretty hard. He might stay like this for a while.”

“Does the police know who ran him over?”

She nods. “Yes, they have talked to him and pressed charges.”

“They pressed charges? That’s it?”

“Your friend isn’t dead. The most the man who ran over him can do is help with the hospital bills.”

I nod and suck on my bottom lip.

“Why don’t you go home? Showering will make you feel better,” she looks at my unwrapped but uneaten sandwich, “and besides, you can’t live off hospital sandwiches forever.”

I sigh. I know she’s right. I can’t remember the last time I properly went home. I usually just go there to sleep and then come right back. My hair is probably extremely greasy and my clothes definitely stink. “The hospital will ring me if something happens, yeah?”

“Of course we will, sir,” she beams at me, the brightest smile on her face. It seems impossible that someone can radiate so much positive energy in such a negative environment.  

I take a taxi home and shower. The good thing about showers is that you can never tell whether you’re crying or not. I get dressed, not bothering to check if what I’m wearing matches at all. For the first time in over a week, I turn on my laptop. I’ve been checking twitter everyday on my phone, but I haven’t really been replying to people’s concerned tweets, which is making them even more concerned. I haven’t uploaded a video in over a week and neither has Dan. In fact, neither of us have been active on the internet at all since Dan went to the hospital. My notifications are blowing up and suddenly, I feel bad for neglecting all these people that love and care for us. It’s probably not my best idea, but I decide to do a spontaneous live show, just to let them know I’m still alive.

“Hi guys!” I say as soon as the website tells me I’m live. I try to act cheerful and talk about what I would normally talk about, but no one is buying it. The chat is flooded with “Are you okay?”, “Where have you been?” and “Where’s Dan?”. I smile softly and shake my head.

“No... I’m not okay,” I chuckle. My heart is drumming against my ears and I can’t hear my own voice. “Dan’s not here. And he won’t be for a while. Hopefully he’ll come back.” I bite my lower lip and dig my nails against my palms to keep myself from crying. I’ve been crying an awful lot these past few days. I’m pathetic. I lift my hand to touch my damp cheeks and wipe my nose with my wrist. “Dan got ran over by a car and is now in a coma. The doctors say it’s pretty severe and he might stay like that for a few months...Or even years.”

I can’t feel my body. There. I said it. I said it and now everyone knows and I’m shaking and the tears won’t stop running down my face and I’m gasping for air and I’m choking on my own sobs and thousands of people are watching and I wish they never had to see me like this. 

The chat seems to have quieted down. People don’t know what to say. I understand. I don’t really know what to say either. A few people try to make me feel better. They tell me to take my time and that I don’t need to upload any time soon and I feel so loved. I feel so glad I have such compassionate and understanding people in my life. I quietly thank them and tell them I’ll try to keep them updated before ending the live show. 

I grab my laptop and charger and shove them in my bag pack that I will be taking to the hospital. 

The days go by. Dan’s birthday passes and his family and close friends all gather around his hospital bed singing happy birthday and blowing out the candles on the cake I made him. Vidcon passes and as sad as everyone is that I’m not attending, they understand. I upload a video whenever I can, and I even manage to laugh a few times. Our friends always invite me out to dinner or to hang out, and even though I’m not as bright as I usually am, no one mentions it. I’m at the hospital everyday. I tell Dan about my day, we watch movies, we share meals (well, I eat and he keeps me company). My parents offered me a room back at their house, but I said I was fine. And I was. Really. Despite Dan’s state, I still had my best friend. He might not reply or even hear what I say, but my best friend is still alive, and honestly, that’s enough to keep me going. 

“You won’t believe what was in your room today,” I say as I slump down in my usual chair next to his hospital bed. “There was a huge beetle next to one of your posters! I’m not kidding when I say it was about as big as my entire finger!! I killed it though. I tried to get it on a magazine and throw it out the window, but that didn’t work, so I had to end up killing it.” I silently laugh and start getting all my stuff out of my bag. “You better thank me for that when you wake up.”

I open my laptop and start playing the episode of SAO where we left off yesterday. We watch anime for the remainder of the afternoon.

 

~~~~~~~

 

Months go by. There isn’t one day where I don’t go to the hospital. Even on christmas day, I ask my family to be excused for most of the day so I can keep him company. I also spend new years with him. We both lay on his bed and watch the fire works through the small window in his hospital room. I even bring champagne, but I don’t drink much. There really isn’t any point in drinking champagne alone.

It’s now January 30thand it’s my birthday. I skip in the direction of Dan’s room and open the door with a cheerful smile on my face only to find a woman leaning over Dan’s body. Her shoulders are shaking and she throws her arms around me when she realizes I’m in the room.

“Mrs.Howell? Is everything okay?”

“Oh, Phil,” she sobs. “Phil, I’m so sorry.”

I glance over at the heart monitor to make sure it’s still beeping. It is. I look at her in confusion and I notice she tries her best to keep herself together. 

“He seems fine to me?” 

“I-I’m- the doctor said the chances of him waking up are slim to none and I- there isn’t anything else they can do and the hospital bill is getting too expensive, so I think it’s better if we- I’m so sorry.”

I freeze. No. No, they can’t pull the plug now. Not after so many months of trying. Not after what we’ve been through. Not after what _I’ve_ been through. 

“No.” My tone is dry. “No, you can’t do that. Not now. You can’t.” My vision starts to blur and my bottom lashes are wet. “Mrs.Howell, please. There must be something else they can do!” She shakes her head and looks at me with a sympathetic smile on her lips. “They’re doctors! They need to do something! They can’t just give up on him!” 

She rests one of her shaking hands on my shoulder. “I’m sorry, Phil.”

My eyes are burning and my heart is pounding in my ears. “I’ll help pay for the bills. Please.”

“Hanging on to false hopes is- it’s life destroying, Phil. I want you to be able to move on, continue your life. The chances of him waking up are so small. You’re not the only one hurting. God, it’s killing me not being here everyday, it’s killing me having to see him so lifeless, and it’s killing me having to do this to my own son. But I think it’s the best for both of us. He wouldn’t want us to spend the rest of our lives hanging on to the slim chances of him waking up. He’d want us to go on about our lives and be happy. Dan would want that.”

I wipe the tears from my eyes and lower the volume of my voice. “When.”

“February 6th at 4:00pm.”

I nod and walk out the door, unable to glance at Dan for even one second. It’s strange that at the biggest turning point in my life I can’t feel anything. I don’t feel angry, I don’t feel sad, I don’t feel disappointed. I just feel an enormous lack of... feeling. And that’s how I end up laying in Dan’s bed at 7:12pm surrounded by tequila bottles and everything that belonged to him. He’s usually the one who makes random cocktails at 12am, and throwing this much alcohol away would be a waste of money. By the time I’m about half way done with the first bottle I realize that I actually do feel something. Pain. I feel pain. And the more I drink the more unbearable it gets. I keep drinking. Bottle number two. Every time I think I can’t feel worse, I find out I’m wrong. I crawl out of bed. I splash cold water on my face and look in the mirror to see a pair of tired and lonely eyes staring back at me. I feel like I’m losing my mind. Pain. Everything is painful. My whole body hurts and it feels like thousands of knives are slowly tearing my skin apart. His toothbrush is leaning against mine and I throw it across the room. Everything around me is him. His stupid hairspray is still carefully placed next to the sink and I grab it and I knock it against the wall and I fall to the cold floor and I feel pain. I can’t breathe. Or maybe I’m breathing too fast. I can’t decide. Everything hurts. I take another sip and the alcohol tastes of tears. My chest is rapidly moving up and down and my raw eyes stare blankly at the flickering bathroom light above me. I fall asleep.

 

~~~~~~

 

There’s an unbearable pounding in my head and my back hurts from laying on the floor. When I try to stand up I automatically have to lean over the sink, the dizziness taking over me. I’m going to throw up.

I stumble my way to the toilet and it feels like I’m puking my intestines out. 

I walk over to Dan’s room and look for my phone which I remember throwing on the ground at some point last night. I turn it on. 4:34am. I notice I have two unread messages: one from PJ and one from Louise, both asking if I want to hang out at some point this week. I stuff my phone in my pocket without replying to either of them. How can they be thinking about hanging out when Dan won’t be hanging out with us? Not today. Not any time this week. Not ever. How can they ask me to hang out and pretend everything’s fine when everything’s not fine?! How can they be so naive and clueless and not notice that no, I am not okay, no, I do not want to hang out, all I want to do right now is wait for Dan to come back. All I want is to see my best friend and make sure he’s still alive. Which he won’t be by this time next week. 

I change shirts and head to the hospital. 

 

~~~~~~~

 

His chest slowly heaves up and down and I smile. I sit next to him on the bed and turn my laptop on.

“Remember Phil is not on fire? Those were fun to film,” I chuckle, “I thought we could have a Phil is not on fire marathon. To relive memories, you know?”

I give him a soft smile and pull up our first PINOF. We were both so young. It’s quite endearing to watch us grow, not just physically but mentally. And as friends. It’s 6:02am and I suddenly feel a massive rush of pride run through my body. I’m so lucky to have shared all these years with such an amazing friend. I’m so lucky to be able to call this friend my _best_ friend.

“I miss filming videos with you,” I murmur, “I was hoping we’d get to film a 7th Phil is not on fire.”

I run one of my hands through my hair and exhale slowly. I’m about to close my laptop when a hand softly brushes against mine. I hurriedly jolt my head in Dan’s direction and stare at him.

“Dan!? Dan, was that you!?”

His index finger gently grazes over my hand once again.

“Dan! Dan, it’s me! It’s Phil!”

He moves his finger up and down against my skin and I swear I see him smile. I throw my arms around him and I'm probably squeezing him too hard, but I don't care. My chest feels so tight and I know he isn’t hugging back but his hand is tenderly tugging at my shirt and that’s good enough for me. I might’ve pressed the nurse button a million times but I don't care. I don’t care about anything right now besides the fact that Dan is awake. He’s breathing and his lips are slightly curved up and his thumb is rubbing over my hand and he is awake. He is alive!

“He woke up! He’s awake!!” I practically scream when the nurse walks in. 

I’m not sure what’s going on. The nurse seems to be preforming all sorts of tests and taking insane notes, and I just can’t wipe the smile off my face.

After a few excruciatingly long minutes, she turns to me with a big smile on her face. “I don’t know how, but your friend seems to have woken up! Let him rest, though. He will probably fall asleep again, so don’t freak out if he does. It’ll take him some time to fully wake up. I’m going to get the doctor.”

I sit on the chair next to him and his weak hand rises and touches my cheek. I hold it there with my own shaking hands. I don’t remember ever being this relieved and happy in my entire life. 

 

~~~~~~~

 

When the doctors finally leave, all I’ve heard for the past hour is positive smiles and good feedback. They say Dan is in the right path to recovery. 

We’re finally alone and he seems to be asleep again. I rest my head against his shoulder and ghost my fingers along his arm. I close my eyes and sigh. 

A small and barely audible voice disrupts the silence. “Phil.”

I look up to see him staring off into space, a fixed look on his face.

“Hi, Dan,” I smile at him. He seems to be wanting to form words, but his lips won’t budge. “Sh, it’s alright, you don’t need to talk. Just rest, I’m not going anywhere.”

He tries to find my hand, still not making eye contact with me, and grabs it forcefully. I kiss his forehead and fix the covers around him. Like hell I’m going to lose him to some stupid hospital cold. I’m not losing him again.

I feel him breathe slowly next to me. I lovingly brush his hair out of his eyes. His fingers are digging into my palm and his lips are slightly parted and I’m so happy. All of this feels so surreal. I call his mum and I can’t really make out what she’s saying on the other end of the line, but I can hear gleeful sobs and muffled, high pitched screeches. What started off as a horrible day turned to be the only day I have been wishing for for the past months.

I sigh and touch my nose to his shoulder. “You were a bit late with my birthday present.”

 

~~~~~~~

 

I wake up to Dan shaking next to me. His arms are flailing slightly and his eyes are open wide and staring blankly at the ceiling above him.

“Phil.” His voice is raspy and low pitched.

I sit up, place a hand on his arm and look at him. “Yes, Dan? I’m here.” He nods and keeps nodding, grabbing my hand forcefully and his breathing is quick. “It’s okay. You’re okay.” He swallows and closes his eyes and a few minutes later, he’s asleep again. It’s heartbreaking to see him like this, but at least it’s better than him not being awake at all.

There’s a knock on the door and his mom walks in, giving me a huge hug. “How’s he been?”

“He was awake just a second ago. The doctors said he has good chances of recovering.”

She holds one of his hands in between hers and smiles sadly at her son. “Good. That’s... That’s really good. Thank you for being here all this time, Phil.”

“Don’t worry about it, Mrs.Howell. He’s really important to me too.”

She nods and pats Dan’s hand. “And how have _you_ been?”

“Oh you know, in and out of the hospital, buying crappy food from the concessions downstairs.”

“No, I mean how have you been. Emotionally. You look exhausted.” Her eyebrows knit together and she studies my face. “Have you been alright?”

I look down, not being able to give her the answer she wants to hear. Of course I’m not alright. It would be a bit weird if I was. “It’s been... Tough. Really tough. But he’s awake now, I’ll be fine.” I force a smile onto my face and I know she doesn’t buy it, but we drop the subject. 

“So, have you told anyone else Dan’s woken up?”

“No, I don’t think he should have visitors for a while. It’s tiring for him.”

“Good point. His brother and father should be visiting tomorrow, though. I don’t think that would be too much trouble, would it?”

“Nah, I think it should be fine.”

Mrs.Howell sleeps next to Dan that night and I sleep properly in mine for the first time in weeks. 

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Part 2 - Then one where I fell in love**

 

The thing about movies is that they don’t tell you how hard recovery is. You think people just magically wake up from a coma and everything goes back to normal. Oh, it’s nothing like that. It’s an emotional journey for both the person in the coma and everyone else trying to help them. They have to relearn how to walk, eat, speak properly, and do any basic task by themselves. I’ve lost count of how many times I’ve had to help Dan get a spoonful of soup to his mouth, or walk to the bathroom. I even had to help him unbutton/button his jeans a couple of times, which sounds quite awkward and funny, but it’s really not. I can tell Dan is embarrassed and frustrated at his inability to execute such a simple task. He tries, he tries so hard, but he starts shaking and his breath quickens and his hands end up falling down in defeat. Finally, he gives in and just calls for my help, looking away and nipping at his bottom lip when I open the bathroom door. All I can do is offer him a smile before aiding him and then helping him get back to bed. Sometimes he has sudden outbursts of anger, and I don’t know how to stop them. He screams at me, at the nurse, at himself, and sometimes at no one in particular. It’s not his fault, it’s the brain injury shouting. After he calms down I hold him and run my fingers through is hair in an attempt to calm him down. I read that that helps. The worst part is that he usually doesn’t have any memory of it all.

What really hurts me though, is seeing how unsafe he feels. I read about that too, how people post-coma tend to feel very unsafe and scared. When he isn’t tugging at the bedsheets or tubes, he is searching for my hand and holding on to it for his dear life. I rub his back and tell him he’s safe. He always tries to refrain himself from softly gliding his fingers over my hand, but when he starts talking about all the voices he hears at 3am, he can’t help himself. It’s almost as if he’s afraid of slipping back into unconsciousness. I wish I could do something else besides stand there and rub his shoulders when he feels scared like this. 

“Don’t say that. You’re already doing so much. Just being here is enough,” he’d told me.

Therapy is probably the best part, though. I’m always there to encourage him or lighten the mood when he falls or can’t enunciate something correctly. I see him improving and it makes me so proud. He gets so happy whenever he manages to accomplish something and his smile is probably the most contagious thing in the world. The only reason I like going to therapy with Dan is because I see him smile so much. God, did I miss that smile. 

It’s been a few weeks since he woke up, and today is the day he will finally be discharged from the hospital. He’s fidgety and that stupid wide grin hasn’t left his face the whole morning.

“Excited?” I ask.

“Lord, I’m so tired of this sickening hospital smell. Everything here is so dull and boring! I don’t even remember what our flat looks like! Have you been cleaning it?”

“Well, not exactly,” I laugh. “I’ve been spending pretty much every day here, so the flat is kind of messy.”

“It’s alright, we’ll clean it eventually. Can we invite Bryony and Wirrow over one of these days? And Louise and Pj and God, get Cat a plane and tell her to spend a few days at our flat. I miss them so much.” He dangles his legs from his bed. “Do you think you could help me film a video? I have a couple of ideas, they don’t involve much moving, and it’ll probably be a short video, but-”

“I’ll help you,” I say, beaming at him. “People just want to see your face, Dan. Everyone will be so happy to see you again! They were all so excited when I told them you were coming back home soon.”

He looks down and the tips of his lips curl up. “Do you think we could film Phil is not on fire 7 too? You know, it doesn’t have to be now, but in the near future... I’d really like that”

“Yeah...” I look down at his feet and try to hide my smile. “Yeah, that would be- I would love that.”

We stay in silence for a few minutes. We both know it will be a rocky road from now on, but we can make it through. We’ve made it this far. Everything we’ve done and have to do is worth it because we’re together again and we’re laughing and making jokes like we used to. I’m so happy. And I think he’s happy too. 

It’s 3:03pm when Dan waves goodbye to his doctor. We hop on the taxi and the enthusiasm in his eyes when he sees the busy streets of London makes me chuckle. When he finally arrives at the entrance of our flat, he stops in his steps and stares at the door taking a deep breath. I open it and help him inside. “Welcome home,” I say.

“God, I forgot we had so many stairs!”

He struggles a bit going up the first flight, but quickly gets himself together and continues taking careful steps, my arms open wide in case he falls. We get to his room and that’s when I realize I haven’t been here since... Since I thought I wouldn't see him awake ever again.

“Wow... My room’s a bit...”

“Yeah...”

“Have you been sleeping in my bed?”

“No it’s just that I-”

“Is that a tequila bottle? Wait, sorry, _three_ tequila bottles?!”

I scratch the back of my neck. Seeing this scenery is bringing back all the memories of that night, and I feel my chest start to tighten again.

“Phil?” I didn't even notice he’d gotten closer to me.

“I-Well, you see, that was the night your mum told me we were going to have to- you were going to- I’m sorry.”

Dan stares at me with glassy eyes and his mouth is a line. I shouldn’t have said that, I should’ve made something up, why would I tell him I drank two and a half bottles of tequila and cried myself to sleep because of him? I know Dan I know he's going to beat himself up because of this and think it's all his fault, I’m so stupid, he probably thinks-

“Phil...” he softly wraps his arms around my chest. “I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry things got like this. I’m so sorry I wasn’t there.” I grab hold of his shirt and bury my head on his shoulder as he rubs small circles on my back.

“It’s not your fault,” I whisper.

He hugs me tighter and I feel him shaking against me. “This is so unfair to you, you never asked for this! Why did this have to happen to you!?”

“Dan, you're kinda the one who was asleep for a billion months?”

“But you were the one living through everything. You were the one who had to come home to an empty flat, you were the one who had to see me almost dead in a hospital bed, dammit Phil, you were the one who drowned yourself in cheap tequila because of a stupid friend.”

I pull away and peer up at him. “You’re not stupid.” I notice his nose is red and his cheeks are blotchy from salty tears. “Hey, Dan, it’s okay! Everything is okay now! It was really awful and terrible while it lasted but you’re okay now! _I’m_ okay! Please don’t blame yourself, none of this is your fault! If it’s anyone’s fault, it should be mine!”

“Wait, what? What are you talking about?”

“I was the one who told you to go to the grocery store, remember?”

He takes a step back. “Are you kidding me? Are you fucking serious right now, Phil? Have you been blaming yourself this whole time for me being in that fucking coma?Are you mental!?”

“It’s true, though,” I murmur.

“ _I_ was the one who decided to go grocery shopping! I could’ve easily told you I didn’t want to, but _I chose_ to go! None of this is your fault, Phil, bloody hell!”

I play with the hem of my shirt and stare at his chest, not being able to look him in the eyes. My lip quivers.

“Phil, oh God, Phil.” He grabs my face with both hands. “Look at me.” I meet his gaze. “God, Phil you’re such a fucking moron sometimes. If you blame yourself for all of this one more time I swear I will slap you! And none of that youtubers react bullshit. I will actually slap you so hard, any self deprecating thoughts you might have will fly right out of your head!”

I laugh quietly. “Thanks, Dan.” I exhale shakily. “I missed you so much.”

He pulls me in for another hug and rests his chin on my shoulder. “I missed you too, silly boy.”

It’s moments like these where I wonder if it’s actually physically possible for a heart to melt. Because my heart feels like fire on ice right now. What would I do without Dan. How the hell would I have survive if he hadn’t. It’s while having him curled up against me while we watch a rerun of american horror story that I realize I wouldn’t. I would not have survived living the rest of my life without Dan. He’s like my right arm, my better half. I don't know when I got this cheesy, dammit I don't even like cheese. I grab his shirt in a fist and press my lips against his hair.

“We’ve watched this before, it’s not that scary, Phil.”

I snicker. “It’s not that.”

“What is it then?”

I shake my head. “I’m just really glad that you’re here.”

He gives me a sheepish smile and flicks the side of my head. I snicker and stick my tongue out at him, immediately regretting saying such sappy things. He doesn’t seem to mind though, as he wraps his arms around me and starts humming the AHS theme song. “Do you want me to sleep with you tonight?” He pauses for a moment. I know what he’s thinking, I know him too well. He wants to say yes but he doesn’t want to seem clingy. He doesn’t want to be a burden to me and I wish I could hug those thoughts away. “I’ll go get my pillow while you get changed in your room, yeah? We'll have a good ol' Dan and Phil sleepover, okay?” He nods, a small smile lingering in his lips. I untangle myself from him and head to my room. I put on some pajama pants and a t-shirt that barely matches them. I exchange my contacts for my glasses, brush my teeth, grab my pillow and finally head to his room.

“You in there?” I ask as I knock.

“Mhm.” I open the door to find him sitting cross legged on his phone. It's kind of endearing how most the shirts he uses to sleep in are slightly too big on him now, as he's lost quite some weight from not eating proper food for a few months. He’s like a child, long sweatpants, too big shirt from some random company, messy hair, and sleepy eyes. A 6’2” child. I place my pillow next to his and sit next to him. “You don’t have to sleep here if you don’t want to,” he says, not looking away from his phone.

“Are you ditching our sleepover? Rude.” He smirks and moves over, patting the spot next to him. 

“Don’t be scared if I suddenly wake up, or get scared out of nowhere, or-”

“Dan. It’s okay. I’ve slept next to you many times in the hospital. I’m prepared.” I say, making a silly face as I show him my non-existing muscles.

He takes a deep breath and lays down, his back facing me. I proceed to rest my own back against the mattress and ask him if I can turns the lights off, to which he replies with a small nod. Needless to say it takes him hours to fall asleep. At 4am, he’s still moving around. I sigh.

“Is everything okay, Dan?”

I hear him shake his head against the pillow. “It’s just, I just feel so. I don’t know. This is stupid, I don’t know, I’m scared but I don’t know why and I just feel so-”

“Unsafe?” He nods, and this time he’s looking at me. “It’s alright. The nurse warned me about these side effects. I also read tons of stuff online from people who've woken up from comas. It’s normal. You’re safe, though, okay? Nothing bad will happen to you.”

“I’m sorry, you’re not getting any sleep because of me, I’m an awful friend, I’m sorry.”

I hush him and pull him towards me. He places one of his hands at the collar of my shirt and I feel him breathing heavily. “I’m sorry,” he sighs. I plant a light kiss on his forehead to assure him everything is alright and within 20 minutes, he’s asleep. 

 

~~~~~~

 

Waking up in Dan’s bed isn’t as disorienting as I thought it would be. Neither is having Dan’s head against my chest or feeling his tiny puffs of air against my skin. I sense him yawning and look down to find a pair of sleepy eyes and rosy cheeks being illuminated by the dim light coming from his window. 

“Good morning,” he mumbles.

I soften my expression and wipe away the little crusty bits at the corner of his eyes. “Fancy some breakfast?”

He stretches and exhales a raspy, "Mhm.”

The morning goes by pretty smoothly. He seems tired, but that doesn’t keep him from wanting to help me around the house. By the end of the afternoon we’re both on our laptops in the lounge, though. It’s nice to have our old routine back.

“You’ve survived your first day back home!” I exclaim looking up from my screen.

“You shouldn’t speak so soon.”

“We should celebrate!”

He straightens himself on the couch and looks at me. “How?”

I set my laptop down and run to the kitchen. When I get back he’s giving me a questioning look. “What have you got there?”

“Ice cream!!” I pull a tub of ice cream and two spoons from behind me and he chortles. 

“I do feel like having some ice cream right now, how did you guess?”

“Psychic powers.” I take a seat next to him and hand him a spoon. We open the lid and start devouring the coffee ice cream. “How does it feel to eat actual real food?”

“It feels amazing,” he answers, mouth full. “So much flavour!” He fills his mouth with another spoonful. “What about you?”

“I’ve been eating non hospital food, Dan.”

“Yeah, but you still had to buy those crappy sandwiches every time you came to visit- which was every day.”

I chuckle. “Yeah, I guess. It was alright though, it didn’t really matter. You were there to get my mind off the awful cheese.”

He scrunches up his nose. “You don’t like cheese either way, silly goose.”

“Wow Daniel, you know me so well,” I say, exaggerating my northern accent. 

We stay silent for a while, just savoring our ice cream. We’re a third of the way done with the tub when Dan stops and glances at me. “Did you really go to the hospital everyday while I was there?”

I nod my head as I place the spoon in my mouth once again. “Mhm.”

“Every single day?”

“Yup.”

“Why?”

I roll my eyes. “Like that’s a question. Because you’re my best friend and I missed you. Although being with you while you were asleep in the hospital isn’t as great as us playing jenga in my bedroom while you’re awake, it was better than not seeing you at all.”

He delicately places his icy lips on my cheek. “Thank you.”

His lips are cold, but they leave fire behind. My heart hammers against my chest and I stuff my mouth with more ice cream to avoid looking at him. 

Friends do this. It’s okay. 

Friends also let their fingers touch for too long when they accidentally both go to put the lid back on the ice cream. Friends kiss each other’s noses before cuddling and talking for two hours straight before falling asleep. Friends take time to argue about who will be the smaller spoon and who will be the bigger spoon. Friends end up just tangling their limbs together and resting their foreheads against each other while falling asleep with dumb smiles on their faces. Friends wake up with one of them placing soft, wet, open mouthed kisses against the other’s jawline. Fuck, wait, no they don’t. Why the hell is Dan sexually kissing my jaw line? 

I try to look at him, but he just continues kissing my neck and it feels good. It feels so good. He’s moaning softly and grunting against my skin. He’s probably having a dream. A really great dream. My eyes close and my mouth forms a small o shape. My eyebrows knit together and this isn’t right. This is so wrong, oh God. But I can’t stop him. I don’t want him to stop. His rough and chapped lips are tickling my neck, and his tongue leaves wet trails all over my skin, and his breath breezy spots every time he exhales. I’m so entranced that I don’t even notice when a rather loud moan escapes my lips. 

The kisses suddenly stop and his confused gaze meets mine. “Oh my God.”

“Oh my God.”

He quickly sits up and leans away from me. “What the hell are you doing!?”

“What the hell are _you_ doing!?”

He takes a quick glance at my neck and pulls at the fabric against his crotch. “Did I just give you a hickey?” 

I try to follow his gaze only to realize I can’t look at my own neck. “I don’t know, did you!?”

“I need to go take a shower.” He stumbles off the bed and heads to the bathroom. 

I stand up and walk over to his mirror to look at my neck. My eyes widen when I see a quite large red spot right under my jaw. Oh God, why is this happening to me? And not only do I have a small issue to deal with on my neck, but I have an even bigger issue to deal with downstairs. He’s probably taking care of his right now and the fact that the thought of Dan jacking off in the shower turns me on extremely is so wrong. I bring my hands to my face and let out a low grunt. I hear the shower head turn on and keeping my head off what Dan is probably doing right now is so hard. Like my cock. Fuck, this is so fucked up. 

I lay down and open twitter on my phone. People are asking about Dan, so I let them know he’s doing fine and they shouldn’t worry. After 20 minutes of mindlessly scrolling through my notifications, Dan walks in with a towel wrapped around his hips.

“Forgot my clothes.” 

“Alright.”

“Yeah.”

“Yup.”

God, this is the worst. This is the actual most awkward morning I’ve ever had and that’s saying something.

“Hey, Phil, I’m really sorry about... Yeah, I don’t know what possessed me to do what I did, I didn’t mean to.”

“It’s alright, now go get dressed before you accidentally flash me.”

He laughs and walks out the door. He’s spent 8 months in the hospital, he’s probably been extremely sexually frustrated. Has he even jacked off since he woke up from his coma? He just needed to let it out, and I guess I’m also quite aroused, so my thoughts are probably all messed up. 

The rest of week goes by pretty smoothly. I accompany him to his therapy sessions, I help him film a new video, and we sometimes mention "the incident" and laugh about it.

I’m sprawled out on my bed when I hear a quiet piano tune come from Dan’s room. I hear him let out frustrated sighs every time he misses a note and sit up so I can listen more attentively. I’ve always loved listening to him play. He used to play late at night when he thought I was asleep, but I usually woke up. I didn’t mind though, I actually looked forward to being woken up by the soothing rhythm of his fingers hitting the piano keys. I tiptoe my way across the hall and peer inside through the slightly opened door.

"Hi, Dan," I knock gently and give him a smile.

"Sup," he nods, not lifting his eyes or fingers from the piano.

"Ingenue, still?"

"I like this song, okay? Besides, I still don't know how to play it 100% correctly."

I sit down on the edge of his bed and listen to him play. My life has been lacking quite some music recently, it's rather nice hearing such a beautiful melody this late at night.

"Were you asleep?" he asks.

"No, I was playing nintendo and kinda forgot what time it was. I also didn't know if you wanted me to sleep here today so I was waiting to ask you."

"You don't really need to ask anymore, at this time it's practically a given that you're sleeping here. If you want to that is."

"I do."

He smiles at me, a hint of relief in his eyes. "Alright then, go get your pillow and get your ass over here."

I change into my hoodie and pajama pants, push my fringe back and adjust my glasses before making my way back to Dan's room and jumping on top of his bed. He's already changed into his own pajamas and his laptop is balanced on top of his knees. 

"Yo," he says when I look over to see what he's doing. "I have so many emails, just looking at my inbox is painful. Whenever I tell myself I'm going to read them and just get it over with, I see the big bold number of unread emails and just... Decide not to." He closes the lid of his laptop.

"Which I'm guessing is what you're doing right now," I point out.

"You are absolutely correct, great job, five stars to you, Lester."

I bow my head down. "Thank you, thank you."

"Is it sleepy time?"

I lay down on my pillow with my limbs spread out on the bed. "Eh, I'm not exactly tired, but I don't really feel like going for a hike either."

"Yeah I feel." He lays down on his pillow next to me.

"I just kinda wanna lay here."

"Sounds like a plan." He holds his thumb up in the air. "Care for some music?"

"Yeah, I'd love some MUSEic."

He pulls out his phone, scrolling down his playlists. "That was awful Phil. But yeah we haven't listened to Muse in a while. Care for a specific album or should I just put it on shuffle?"

"I kinda feel like listening to Showbiz today, just in that old Muse mood, you know?"

He hits play. "Showbiz it is."

A familiar tune fills the air and we both face each other and blurt out, "Fillip!"

We start playing air-guitar and drums while wiggling around on the bed. 

"It's happening soon, it's happening soon. It's scent has been blowing in my direction," we sing to each other.

We scream our hearts out, and it will probably wake up our neighbors, but we are so into it right now, who the hell cares? "And it's gonna be our last memory. And it's led me on and on to you." The song fades out and we strike a dramatic pose in our laying-down positions. 

Dan is laughing, a genuine smile on his lips, and God do I love that smile.

"Hey Dan, wanna hear a joke?"

"Hit me with a joke, Phil."

"What's the difference between unlawful and illegal?" I ask, sitting up on my elbow and turning my body towards him.

He rests his hands on his stomach and looks up at me. "I don't know Phil, what's the difference between unlawful and illegal?"

"Unlawful means against the law, illegal is just a sick bird."

He stares at me with a blank expression and I look down at him, attempting to give him jazz hands.

"That was terrible Phil."

"ILL EAGLE, DAN! CAW!" I fall on my back and place my hand over my heart, letting out fake coughs.

"Are you an ill eagle?" He sits up cross-legged and faces me.

"I am a very ill eagle." I slap him playfully on the cheek. "I am a very ill and _contagious_ eagle! Caw, caw!" I leap forward in an attempt to pin him down and cough on him, but he is too quick and before I know it he's out of the bed, holding a pillow up as a shield. "Get away from me you freak eagle!"

"In your dreams Howell!" I grab the pillow and try to lower it so I can cough on his face. He runs around to the other side of the bed and lets out a high pitched laugh when I throw the pillow at his head.

"Oh mighty eagle, what would your majesty like me to do, in return of my untouched good health?"

"Oh, you're going to do things for me?" I settle down crossing my legs and hugging a pillow against my chest. "Nice."

"Don't push it."

"Hm alright. How about you... Give me a massage?"

"I have no idea how to give massages, Phil."

"Time you learn, little scout," I say as I lay down on my stomach. "Hop on."

He sighs and climbs on top of the bed, carefully placing both his hands on my shoulders. He gives them a little squeeze before laying down with a big thud and exclaiming, "Done!"

"That was _not_ my dream massage!"

"But it was a massage."

"That was not a massage."

"Yes it was."

I give him a menacing look and cough lightly.

"Ugh fine."

He presses his thumbs against my back and starts moving them in circles and I can't help but exhale contently. He moves his hands up and down my back, putting just enough pressure on the right points to make me let out a soft groan, which causes him to chuckle.

"You've gotten bonier. Have you been eating alright?"

"To be honest, I don't even remember eating that well, it was just something that kinda happened eventually," I yawn.

"Why didn't you eat?"

"I didn't say I didn't eat. I just meant it wasn't a priority to me."

His grip on my shoulders stiffens. "Why?"

"Don't know. I didn't really have many priorities for a few months actually."

"What priorities _did_ you have?" Now he's rubbing my back gently instead of pressing on it.

_Making sure you were still alive_ is what I want to say, but I don't. He already feels bad enough, I don't want to worry him any more.

"I ate alright, okay? You don't need to worry, Dan."

"Yes I fucking do! Look at you! Look at how pale and tired you look."

"It's not that bad. I'm already pale anyways." I turn my head around so I can look at him and I notice his lips are forming a frown. He takes his hands away from my back and starts playing with the hem of his socks. "How bad did it get? When I wasn't here. Did you really feel this crappy?"

I sit up. "Don't worry about me, I'm fine now. Really."

"Were you like...Actually, properly depressed?"

I smile, looking down. "Louise told me I should go see a psychologist. She said I looked awful and I don't know, I probably did. So I went, just to try it out. I tried it for about two months, but it didn't really work, so I figured I should stop since it was a waste of money."

Dan stays silent for a while and I notice his knuckles turning white against the sheets. "Are you taking meds?" he asks.

"Those didn't really work either."

"Why?"

"Why didn't the meds work?"

"No, why did this happen to you. Like, why were you so sad and why couldn't I help you? Why is everything so shit?"

I pause for a moment.

"Not everything is shit," I say and he looks up at me. "You woke up. And you're here, and we're listening to Muse, and we've been laughing and making stupid jokes all day. Everything is kind of the opposite of shit right now."

He pulls his knees up to his chest. "You're a cool friend, you know?"

"Thanks, I know," I chuckle.

"No, really. You're like the epitome of an actual best friend. When people came up with the term "best friend", someone like you was probably exactly who they had in mind. And sometimes it just kinda baffles me how you're _my_ best friend. I'm just really really glad you exist, is all."

I raise my finger and boop his forehead. He wraps his arms around me and pulls me down with him and we just hug for a while.

"I kinda want to stay here forever."

"Me too," he smiles. "Ew, we sound like a married couple."

I look at our tangled limbs and laugh. "Yeah we do."

"What would happen if we were like, you know, dating?"

"Honestly, we'd probably do pretty much everything we already do now, but with more hugs and kisses and other stuff."

He snickers against my hair. "Yeah, we're kind of like a couple already, but without all the kisses."

"Yeah," I nod.

"Would kisses be bad?"

I start tucking at the strings of his hoodie. "No, I don't suppose kisses would be that bad."

"Do you feel like kissing me sometimes?"

"Yeah, sometimes I kinda feel like kissing you." I feel his hand crawl up the sheets to find mine.

"I kinda really want to kiss you sometimes too. Like really, really. I don't know." I feel him smiling against my hair and I start smiling as well, tracing small patterns against his hand with my thumb. "Would things be really different? Between us I mean."

"I don't think so. I think they would be better, maybe, probably, who knows."

I nod, nuzzling closer to his chest. "You know, sometimes I wish friends could kiss. Without it being weird."

"Do you think it would be weird if we kissed?" He runs his nails lightly up and down my back.

"A little bit, yeah. But I kinda don't really mind that. I think the nice feeling would outweigh the weird feeling."

"Yeah." he murmurs. We stay silent for a few minutes, listening to each other breathe. If someone walked in right now, they would think we're asleep. The flat is quiet and our chests heave up and down in a synchronized way. "Can I kiss you?" he asks, "Would that be okay?"

"Yeah, that would be okay. Yeah."

He places a hand under my chin and raises my head so my eyes meet his. Our noses are barely touching and my lips feel so light, like two feathers hovering over each other. I look into his eyes and see that they are crinkly at the sides. I hear a really soft chuckle from the pit of his stomach, and start laughing as well. "What?" I ask. 

"You have pretty eyes," he laughs. "No but really," his expression softens and his pupils dilate, "your eyes are really breathtaking." His hand creeps its way onto my cheek and I feel his fingers lightly graze over it. He moves up a bit and places a tiny kiss in between my eyebrows. "Phil, I'm scared."

"Why are you scared?" My voice comes out raspier and lower than I intended it to.

"Because," he places his index and middle fingers on my lower lip, "you're beautiful." He starts moving his fingers from side to side, rubbing my lip as gently as it's humanly possible. "And I really really want to kiss you. And I didn't think I'd want it this bad, every year I kept telling myself to forget about it and that it would pass but..." He exhales slowly, his shaky breath against my lips taunting me and making me shiver. He takes my hand and places it over his heart and each bum vibrates through my entire body, each one like a tiny earthquake traveling through my fingers and up my arm. He looks at me and his eyes are opened wide and his lips are pressed in a line. I take his hand and place butterfly kisses all over his fingers, sometimes just leaving them pressed to my lips. "Hey Dan, breathe. We don't have to kiss. We don't have to do anything, we can just stay here and I can just hug you for a while, or I can even go back to my room if you want."

"No no no no, that's the thing. I _want_ to kiss you _so so_ bad. That's what's scary. I'm feeling so much love in my heart, it feels like it's overflowing, but I don't want to ruin anything, I don't want you to...I don't know. Get fed up of me or something." He cups my cheeks with both of his hands and his breathing quickens. "It's just, I'm feeling so much at the same time right now and I know I'm talking too much, and-" he looks down and grabs his shirt for comfort. "I'm sorry."

Everything seems to stop for a bit, or maybe it's just me being hyperaware and processing everything too quickly. I watch his tired eyes, his eyelashes batting against his light golden skin. I watch his nose and feel the air quickly going in and out, brushing my skin. I watch his cheeks, all tensed up and pink. I watch his lips, his rosy and chapped lips, his god awful dry lips and they are so beautiful. I ghost my hand up his body and over his face, tracing every centimeter of it ever so lightly, and he looks up at me through his lashes and his piercing brown eyes make my knees shiver. I inch closer and place the smallest kiss on the bridge of his nose. I make my way to his left side, brushing my lips over the tip of his nose and all the way to the apples of his cheek. I touch his lips with my fingers and move closer, leaving a small space between us. "Can I kiss you?" He nods, looking me in the eyes for a second before closing them and parting his lips. I hold his chin up with my hand and give him the gentlest kiss. He doesn't have time to kiss me back because I pull away just to crash my lips against his once again, and this time he kisses me too. He kisses my bottom lip first, sucking on it tenderly and I never thought a mere kiss could feel this good. He licks his way up to my top lip and and kisses me once again. Our hands are tangled together, franticly grabbing at each other and locking fingers and we keep kissing. His breath against my lips each time he pulls away sends shivers up my entire body and I have to grasp his shoulders to steady myself. The kisses go from gentle and shy to hungry and hectic to soft and slow again. Each kiss is longer and more heartfelt than the last, and when we finally pull away to look at each other I can't help but run my fingers through his now wet and tender lips.

"Was that weird?" he murmurs.

"If that was weird, then I want every single one of my days to be filled with weird."

"That was the best weird."

"Weird doesn't really sound like a word anymore."

He chuckles. "You're right, it doesn't, it's so weird."

We both laugh, the gleeful sounds formed at the back of our throats bouncing along the small space between us.

"Can I kiss you again?"

"And again if you'd like," I beam at him.

He peppers my lips with kisses. "And then again?"

I nod. "And again after that one."

"And again and again and again and again?" he asks kissing me over and over again.

"And again and again."

"Do I need to ask you before I kiss you?"

"No, not really. You can kiss me as many times as you'd like."

He smiles against my lips. "That's really good. I like that idea a lot."

We kiss for a while, tugging at each other's hair and pulling away when we need air.

Dan rests his forehead against mine. "If dating you means we can do this everyday-"

"Then I kinda want to date you."

"Yeah." He starts smiling, his dimple nowvisible from miles away, like a ray of sunshine brightening the room. "Then I kind of really really want to date you."

"Really really?"

"Every really in the entire universe"

"Wow, you seem to want to date me a lot."

"I'm gonna date you so good, Philip."

"Is this a challenge?"

"You bet your ass it is!"

I plant a my lips on his. "I'm gonna date you the best."

He chases me when I pull back. "I am gonna date the _fuck_ out of you!"

"What does that mean?"

"It means I'm going to make you wish you were already dating me before you were even born, you plank!"

"Starting off well with the boyfriend nicknames I see. Plank isn't exactly filling my stomach with butterflies, but we'll make it work."

He smiles and buries his nose on the crook of my neck. "Today was a good day."

I nod in agreement, running my fingers through his hair smoothly.

This is going to be good for us. This is going to be really good for us.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


End file.
